


Debuts

by glimpseofmymind



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Drama & Romance, Other, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-12 11:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 19,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimpseofmymind/pseuds/glimpseofmymind
Summary: For a considerable handful of minutes, his mismatched eyes were following a mop of blue hair, ever since it caught his attention in the skatepark area. The person to whom the hair belonged to was now ordering whatever at the beach’s ice cream shop, a little farther on the left side of the brick walled building.





	1. I

The classic. It was a beautiful sunny day, on the coast of the town. The kind of day on the edge of summer, but not quite there yet. The kind with big, blue skies reflecting their colors on the salty sea water. Sun rays shining through the tiny specks of the pale, clean sand.

 

Right at the shore, nature clashed with the beginnings of human presence. Bikers and occasional cars went by at a relaxed pace on dark lines of pavement. Nearby, a larger square of lighter pavement was scraped by dirty nike shoes, and a basketball. Not too far was a zone of metal rails and tridimensional shaped ciment; rollerblades and skateboards brought an urbanized sound to the scenery.

 

The outsiders stood at a more isolated space, shadowed from the burning sun by taller buildings, at the start of the city side of the town. Cheap graffitis painted the basic brick wall, on which their motorbikes were leaning on while they stopped for a quick break. Cigarette smoke mixing in the ocean air every once in a while, they stood around for what they liked to call their daily observations of animal instinct.

 

A small portion of the group, four or so, stood more at the front, eyeing a particular woman who happened to be walking by, too far to notice the odd stares. One elbowed another, another joined in with a barely audible laugh. One, Roger, was more focused on what he was seeing.

 

“Pretty nice bird, isn’t it ?” He pinched a toothpick between his lips as he waited for an answer from the obvious listener.

 

The two were closer than the rest of the group, if it could even be called a group.

 

The listener in question, Murdoc in the name, had fully heard what he was just told, however he was busy with other affairs. For a considerable handful of minutes, his mismatched eyes were following a mop of blue hair, ever since it caught his attention in the skatepark area. The person to whom the hair belonged to was now ordering whatever at the beach’s ice cream shop, a little farther on the left side of the brick walled building.

 

His gaze trailed down on the boy’s appearance; or so it seemed like a boy. He didn’t linger on the thought, his brain only focusing on dumb details. Like how his colorful socks were stupidly unmatched.

 

_Was he in a hurry before he left his house ?_

 

His clothes were too loose for his frame, but short fitting; from shorts way above his knees, to a shirt leaving his belly button open in the air.

 

_Is he shy or a show-off ? What was he ordering anyway ?_

 

Not bothering to look away from what was taking his full attention, Murdoc gave a breathy hum as a response to his friend. Although it wasn’t the approving kind of humming, just normal humming that didn’t mean much in typical dialogue. The one on the other end of the « conversation » still got the message, and thankfully didn’t look behind him.

 

His investigation came to a halt as the blue haired boy left with his ice cream, entering an indoor shop a few miles away on his path. The gang was leaving, putting on their helmets and starting up their bikes.

 

He quickly made up an excuse. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later I got a few errands to run.”

 

He heard some « cool » and « aight » before starting his path on the sidewalk. He walked passed the ice cream shop.


	2. II

Walking in the store he was greeted with a rather annoying clarion, crinkling in his ears as he opened the transparent glass door. Thankfully, the noise was short lived.

 

Giving the place a quick look, confusion was plastered all over his face. The atmosphere was aiming for a relaxing vibe, however the dark purple walls closed off what was already a small space. The quantity of shelves didn’t help its case.

 

Murdoc tried his best at subtlety, starting a slow walk as he followed the alley of products. Suddenly, an overly sweet scent invaded his nostrils, igniting a strong tingling in the back of his throat.

 

Two or three irritating coughs later, he almost jumped when, at the minute he opened his eyes, in front of him  _ he _ stood. The boy with blue hair.

 

“Can I help you with anything ?”

 

The younger’s professional talking was as if he was trying to sound confident but actually wasn’t. A very much audible  _ oh, um _ inched its way out of Murdoc’s mouth.

 

Trying to seem casual, the man looked around the shelves, setting his mind on the first thing that appeared in his vision. “I was actually looking for, um… cream.”

 

The boy slightly raised an eyebrow. He looked like he was trying hard to hide his confusion. “You mean… Lotion ?”

 

Murdoc nodded quickly. “Yeah ! That.”

 

The boy turned on his heels, walking towards the other end of the alley. As he followed him, Murdoc made a mental note to facepalm himself later.

 

The boy suddenly turned his head to him. “What kind of... fragrance are you interested in ?”

 

Murdoc was taken aback by the question. “Oh, I don’t know uh-”

 

The other seemed to sense the tick in his nerves. “We received a new collection recently, I think. Actually we just got it last week.”

 

“Cool.” The man gave a nod, pretending to be interested.

 

He watched as the boy settled on a particular shelf and eyed the products on it, looking for the right one.

 

“It’s lavender scented.” The younger spoke without looking away from his task.

 

_ Focused on his work, huh. _

 

“... Lavender’s great.” Although his response lacked personality, Murdoc wanted nothing more than for this to be over with. He never believed in aromatherapy.

 

Once at the counter, the boy seemed busy at the cash machine, searching for the right function to pay a product.

 

_ Not experimented, alright.  _ He lowered his gaze.  _ Why are his hands so bony, and small ? _

 

His thoughts froze.  _ How old is he anyway ? _ Murdoc gulped; he was already monstrous enough of a person.

 

“Can I try it out ?”

 

In an impulse to switch his train of thoughts, the man let the question slip, thinking out loud at the wrong moment.

 

The boy looked up at him from the machine for a second. “Sure, uh...”

 

He moved slightly from the machine to the centre of the counter, grabbing the lotion bottle. Their eyes met again. The boy had a subtle annoyance in his blue irises. Quickly getting the message, Murdoc brought his hand on the counter, palm up.

 

He became almost mesmerized watching the boy flip the bottle around, his fingers squeezing at the middle of it to bring its content out. He was holding on to whatever information he could get on the boy, when nothing happened but an odd, uncomfortable sound coming out of the tight opening of the product.

 

“Fuck.”

 

_ Oh. He curses. _

 

Murdoc gave a slight chuckle. “Think you’ve pretty much emptied it out.”

 

The boy was rummaging through the drawers at the counter. His anxiety was showing now. “I took the tester. It was the only one left.”

 

“Oh.” It was the only word the man could manage to get out, caught in a loop again as he watched the other in action. 

 

“Ugh-  _ Jesus _ . I’m so sorry for the inconvenience…” The younger was still trying his very best with the professional talk, busy checking in every drawer for a trace of a leftover.

 

Seconds later, Murdoc almost felt bad for the boy. He was using time out of his day for somebody who wasn’t even interested in what he was buying after all.

 

The boy finally came back behind the counter, catching his breath slightly. Murdoc locked his eye on the rebel strand of hair on his forehead.

 

_ The kid must be embarrassed not to be able to look into a customer’s eyes like that. _

 

“I’m sorry, I- I can get you a refund-” The younger fumbled with his words messily.

 

Murdoc remained calm. “You can keep the money.”

 

Finally eye contact was returned. “Really...” The boy trailed off.

 

Murdoc quickly chimed in. “You know what, how about  _ you _ go get your groceries, and  _ I _ come back tomorrow ?”

 

The boy seemed stunned although nothing out of the ordinary was said. The stress was surely overbearing. “... Tomorrow ?”

 

Murdoc nodded. The boy didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, his replique coming a little late for a normal conversation rhythm. “Yeah, sure… You can come tomorrow.”

 

“It’s nice to hear you say that.” The man gave a slight smirk, bolding it out before making his way out of the store.

 

The boy watched him until the door closed behind him. And only then he could exhale a breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are definitely shorter than average. The ideas I get in my head are always in the form of a movie, so each chapter represents one scene (usually).
> 
> Putting this out into the world is giving me such bad anxiety but, hey ! Not all of us are talented and that’s ok !


	3. III

It was nearing dawn as, while occasionally looking through the window, Rachel was busy at the sink after an evening family meal. David was sitting at the dining table, in the same room, reading the daily newspaper, his foot tapping on the wooden leg of his chair.

 

Stuart, the boy, stood nearby, an open book in one hand. He leaned his body on the kitchen cabinets behind him, his other hand holding onto the edge of the cheap counter. “Hey, mum. I was wondering…”

 

As the boy spoke, his mother, Rachel, made a quick turn of the head, letting her son know she was listening.

 

“Are you free tomorrow ?” He asked, hopeful.

 

“Depends on the time, sweetie.” Rachel was focusing on a rather tenacious spot on a white plate. “Why ?”

 

Stuart lowered his gaze, leaving his book on the counter. “Well, this rather... weird dude, came to the store today…”

 

He looked up again, both hands on the counter’s edge. “And I think he’s hunting my arse.”

 

Letting everyone know he was listening, his father, David, spilled his mouthful of coffee on his newspaper, looking up from it frustratedly. “ _ Ex-fucking-scuse you  _ ??”

 

Rachel turned to her husband, widening her eyes as a subtle sign, keeping a calm voice. “David, don’t curse in front of her.”

 

“Him.” Stuart corrected, with simplicity in his tone.

 

Still slightly angry, his father put his cup of coffee down on the table, along with the dirty newspaper, looking up at his partner. “He’s  _ nineteen _ , for Christ’s sake !”

 

“It’s alright, mum.” The boy tried to end the beginning of a useless fight. 

 

Rachel went back to the remaining dishes she had to wash. “I don’t know, honey… Work’s been pretty busy these days, especially with summer coming around…”

 

Chewing on his lower lip, Stuart’s eyes wandered away from the counter as he thought. “Well, maybe you could swing by ? At the end of your shift ?”

 

“Your mom’s a busy bee.” David commented, before bringing his cup to his lips.

 

The boy immediately looked to him. “What about you ?”

 

His father gave him a disappointed look. “Even my free time ain’t free tomorrow. Sorry Stu.”

 

“Come on. Aren’t you worried about me ?” Desperate, Stuart brought out the pity card, a slight pout on his lips.

 

“Well... I have faith in this, you know.” His mother spoke without looking away from the sink. “There are security cameras in there. And you won’t be alone, right ? You’re not the only employee working there.”

 

The boy’s shoulders slumped as he resigned to his defeat. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

 

Another couple of seconds went by, Stuart tapping his fingers on the counter. Rachel was almost finished with her task, and David was standing up, making his way out of the room.

 

“Mum ?” The boy fiddled with his fingers nervously.

 

“Yes, honey ?” She responded simply.

 

“Can I borrow your pepper spray ?” He didn’t get an immediate response. “I kinda want to avoid getting dragged into sex trafficking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a while I literally forgot Stu’s mother was named Rachel and I called her Susan in all of the chapters she is in. #fakefan
> 
> So if you notice a Susan somewhere you’ll know what’s up.


	4. IV

Walking on the sidewalk the next day, Murdoc crossed the ice cream shop on his path again. The day was still as bright as it could get; he was hoping to escape it this time. However, he had some… unfinished business, if one could say. He hesitated a second at the door before pushing it, his nostrils met with the same strong scent.

 

Before he could step any farther, the boy appeared in front of him.

 

“Hey, uh, I got your… lotion.” He had a rather uncomfortable smile on his face. Murdoc didn’t have time to force any reaction.

 

Stuart made quick to hand the product in question to the older man; or at least he thought he was older than him. He had to wait a couple of seconds as Murdoc wrapped his hand around the bottle, pressing his fingers on it lightly.

 

The man cleared his throat quickly. “Thanks, uh...”

 

Lowering his gaze, he noticed the label stuck to the boy’s baggy tee. “Stuart.” Murdoc added to his previous sentence.

 

The boy smiled politely, and quickly, at the remark. He didn’t manage to maintain eye contact.

 

The older man noticed Stuart wasn’t bringing the question back to him. “Murdoc.” He put a finger on his collarbone to accompany his sayings.

 

Stuart’s eyes went back to the other when he heard his voice. He found the name rather odd. As his brain reminded him of basic human communication, he nodded to the man.

 

Taking notice of the boy’s awkwardness, Murdoc began opening the door, still looking at the other. “Thanks again, uh… I’ll be using this a lot.” He gestured to the bottle in his hands as he spoke.

 

“Yeah. Cool.” Stuart responded, almost in a hurry. The older man would have heard him if it wasn’t for the clarion making noise as the door was opened.

 

Turning around once again, the man waved quickly before walking away, letting the door close behind him.

 

As the clarion slowly stopped moving, Stuart unhurriedly took a few steps towards the door. A hand on the glass, he looked outside, his eyes searching until they found what they were looking for. A leather jacket, dark jeans and well combed hair, as black as a crow. The boy’s heartbeat was gradually going back to a normal rhythm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Happy birthday to me !
> 
> I’m 20 years old now which makes me even more mentally disturbed to still be writing crappy fanfiction.
> 
> To anyone who enjoys reading my shit, you have bad taste. But that’s ok, just be yourself.


	5. V

Sitting on a cheap brown sofa, leaning forward, Murdoc flicked the lighter near the lower hole of the bong. The small fire burned the pieces of herb sitting in the compartment. The smoke coming out of it went in the tubular, up to the man’s mouth. He leaned back on the couch, letting the smoke out of his nostrils, closing his eyes.

 

Behind him some members of the gang were hanging out in the dirty flat that they shared. One was standing near the main door, cracked open as the man smoked a cigarette. Another was standing in the back, near the kitchen area, putting his palm on the wall while he flirted with a random girl. Others were probably setting up a fire on the stove, hidden in a corner around the cabinets and counters of the kitchen.

 

Roger walked by, bringing his jeans’ fly up as he exited the small bathroom at the end of the corridor. He went behind the couch where the man was sitting down, taking in the effect of marijuana. “Can I get a hit ?”

 

“Myeah…” Murdoc mumbled, slowly coming back to consciousness. His goal was to forget about the last couple of days. And he couldn’t let anyone, not even his closest friend, know he was having a rough time.

 

Walking around the area to join him, the other noticed the bong left on the table, along with a purple bottle with flowers on it. He took it in his hand, trying to read the words on it. 

 

“Lotion ? That shit’s for faggots !”

 

Murdoc barely had the time to open his eyes before the man threw the bottle away. It landed near the flat screen tv sitting on the floor.

 

After another bong hit, he leaned back against the couch, letting his eyes flutter closed. He could only focus on the loud laughters coming from the kitchen and the exaggerated moans from a girl now having sex with a member of the gang in the back. He stood up in annoyance, ignoring the fact that he had interrupted his friend talking to him. Everything seemed to be boiling up inside of him.

 

He almost punched the door open, letting out a frustrated groan as he leaned against the metal fence. He was on the small cement balcony outside of the apartment, looking out at the buildings and the coast miles away. Even with the substance inside his being, he couldn’t stop thinking about his second encounter with Stuart.

 

_ Why did he rush to the door the minute I walked in ? Was he hiding something ? _

 

_ Does he do drugs ? Damn it, I still didn’t know his age. I wonder what he’s doing right now. _

 

His friend came to join him, leaning on the fence next to him, interrupting his thoughts. “You don’t seem too good mate.”

 

At least they were even now.

 

Murdoc growled again, clenching his jaw. “Piss off.”

 

“Alright, man…” Roger sighed.

 

Then, as if suddenly enlightened, he turned to look at Murdoc. “Oh. I know what’s gotten into you. You’re running on a dry spell !”

 

As he spoke, he gave a harsh pat on the back of Murdoc’s shoulder. It only made the man cringe inside. He kept looking ahead of him, not giving any response.

 

His friend still had his hand on Murdoc’s shoulder. “We’re going out tonight. Think it would do ya good to break out those nerves, huh grandma ?”

 

“Watch it, slag.” The insults came easily; Murdoc wasn’t scared to lose friends. And he knew it did a trick on the other when he became angry.

 

“Aight, chill out mate...” His friend strengthened his grip on the man’s shoulder, as manly as affection would get, before he left to go back inside. Murdoc went back to his train of thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious I never used a bong in my life ?


	6. VI

Outside the house shone a dim yellow light, through beige curtains. If the fabric were any thinner, it would give the passants a glimpse into Stuart’s room, where the boy was pacing back and forth, his smartphone up to his ear. Only golden christmas lights hung on the wall were lighting up the place. The boy had only put on a pair of shorts as he was dressing for the night. He had scars on his chest.

 

_ “Hey, by the way, are you free to hang out with us tonight ?”  _ The voice at the other end of the phone asked.

 

“Tonight ? I mean…” He stopped his pacing as he was interrupted.

 

_ “Come on dude, the semester’s almost over.” _

 

One of the boy’s hands was pressed on the higher part of his hip, the other holding his phone to his ear. 

 

Stuart sighed. “I know, I should uh… Check with my schedule.” He slightly bent over towards his bed, aimlessly going through the pages of a crumpled 2012 organizer.

 

_ “Damn. Exams must have gotten you pretty busy.” _

 

He forced out a sad chuckle. “I haven’t been  _ busy _ , it’s just… I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

 

The boy quickly grabbed a blue shirt randomly thrown on the edge of his bed as he listened to his friend. He stood up straight again, passing the shirt through his head. With the bad habit of steadying his phone between the crook of his shoulder and his ear, his head slightly tilted.

 

The person was talking a lot. “ _ Seriously ? Mate, we got so much shite going on, I think a little bit of fun couldn’t hurt us.” _

 

Stuart shuffled in his room to find a pair of socks. He put one on, standing on one foot, almost tripping in the process.

 

He stopped mid-process, slowly becoming frustrated at the conversation. “I haven’t done this before.”

 

_ “We’ll be with you, it’s going to be fine.” _

 

The boy rolled his eyes, going back to his task as he still had one naked, cold foot. After he passed his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, he sat on the side of his bed.

 

“Where to ?” He simply asked, not willing to directly admit he had lost the argument. He chewed on his lip nervously.

 

“ _ We’ll be at the entrance in front of the Kohl’s bar.” _

 

He nodded, more to himself. “Alright.”

 

_ “Yeah.” _

 

“Cool.” He hung up, throwing his phone next to him on the bed. Laying down, he stared at the ceiling. He was nervous, indeed, but he had this rush inside of him that made him feel like he was finally truly living his teenage years. He suddenly stood up, leaving his phone on the messy ivory sheets.


	7. VII

Night time, already. The streets were still busy everywhere in the town. Cars rode by, echoing loud music for barely seconds. People trotted on the sidewalks, either coming back from a romantic dinner or laughing after drinking one too many. There were especially a lot of gatherings at the entrance of Kohl’s, everyone’s favorite local bar. A couple of motorbikes were left leaning against the building.

 

The music could be heard all the way from outside as a man made an exit through the door, giving a peak of the interior of the place. There were barely any lights, most of them being on the dance floor, where a considerable mob of sweaty people were dancing, screaming, laughing, all of it with a spilling drink in their hands.

 

The gang was over there, gradually losing their sanity. Murdoc, on the other side, was sitting at the counter, looking out the window on his left, the only window he could look out from in this shitty place. He was always one for the parties, however his mind would still not let him get over recent events. He groaned to himself as he reached for his pint of beer, hoping that, by the end of the night, he would be too hammered to think about anything.

 

The place was just not working for him that night. The music felt like it was pressed against his ears, making his head pound against his temples. His friends had now left him on his own for some brainless girls who were desperate for a hookup.

 

Speaking of which.

 

The stools at the counter were all empty until a woman came to sit on one, right next to Murdoc. The man being experienced, he could already smell the whore stench coming from her.

 

She didn’t bother ordering her own drink, taking a hold of Murdoc’s pint, chugging down all the beer that was left in it.

 

“Impressive.” The man spoke with a striking sarcasm.

 

The woman frowned, only for a second. “Beer was never my favorite anyway.”

 

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “I don’t care.” He gestured at the barman to make him another drink.

 

“I could.” She gently went to press her hand on Murdoc’s arm, the part that wasn’t covered by his shirt sleeve.

 

Almost triggered by a memory, the man quickly turned towards the woman, brows furrowed. His traits slowly became more relaxed as his gaze caught the other’s eyes. Big, deep blue irises. Blue as the sea.

 

Realizing how creepily he was behaving, he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at the woman next to him. She only smiled.

 

“I uh… I’m going for a smoke.” Impulsively, he stood from his seat, heading towards the exit. Leaving his full drink on the counter.

 

Once outside, he leaned against the wall, where the people didn’t bother him too much. Soon, the woman stepped out. It didn’t take much time for her to find a miserable looking Murdoc, a cigarette between his lips.

 

He was exhaling the smoke when he saw her arrive; he would have jumped if he didn’t know how to hide his emotions so well.

 

She gave an understanding smile. “Not feeling so good tonight ?”

 

He was almost flattered that she was paying attention to how he was feeling. That until she took a step or two closer, pressing her chest on the side of Murdoc’s. The man didn’t move, his cigarette burning off between his fingers. She brought her mouth close to his ear.

 

“I’ll make you feel better.” Her voice in a whisper sent chills across Murdoc’s body.

 

He was trying his hardest not to get distracted, bringing his cigarette to his mouth again. He exhaled shakingly as the woman pressed her lips on the side of his neck.

 

When Murdoc was still not responding, she got bolder, resting a manicured hand on his chest, biting on his neck slightly. The man was lifting his arm to take another inhale when he saw blue on the other side of the street. Blue through the dark shades of the night.

 

The woman was still going at it, her hand slowly sliding downwards on his chest. Murdoc didn’t move an inch, staring at what he could now see was Stuart, across a flickering lamp post light. The boy was with another man. He seemed to have a strong grip on Stuart’s arm, by the looks of it. He had a little bit of gray in his hair. The two of them were going down the sidewalk, heading for the door of a bleak, abandoned building.

 

Murdoc felt his cigarette slip from his fingers to the ground. The woman stepped on it as she moved in front of him, hiding his gaze from whatever was happening on the other side of the street. He was about to get mad at her when, slowly, her hand reached down to his crotch. He suppressed a groan, his mind suddenly blank as the woman pressed her lips on his, rubbing on his member over his jeans.

 

He pushed her away, grabbing her wrist aggressively and leading her back inside the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this very point in time, things are gonna start getting pretty R rated.
> 
> Just a warning, if you are triggered by mentions of sexual assault and homophobic slurs, be careful while reading the remaining chapters.
> 
> Happy summer peeps.


	8. VIII

The door creaked even with how slow it was moving. Sneakers pressing on the wooden floor didn’t help the case.

 

Stuart stepped into the house in the late hours of the morning. One of the sleeves of his short overalls was hanging down on his body. His shoes were untied. Blinking felt in slow motion. A dark purple shade tainted the skin under his eyes.

 

He headed for the fridge, opening it to grab a container of orange juice. Closing the door, he saw his mother in the corner of his eye. With the container still in his hands, he slowly turned his gaze, and his head, towards the other person in the room.

 

“Where were you ?” Rachel’s question was simple. Stuart couldn’t get the words out to form a response, though.

 

Still looking at his parent, he put on a straight face and a casual attitude. “Out. With my mates.”

 

Seeing as his mom wasn’t adding anything else to the conversation, the boy flipped off the cap from the juice container, and brought it up to his lips. He had tilted his neck slightly to drink more of the fresh substance, accidentally showing off a violent bruise on the side of it. Rachel frowned at the sight, but quickly corrected her betraying expression, deciding not to comment on it.

 

She watched as the boy shuffled in the kitchen, leaving the container on the counter on his way. He took an apple from a bowl near the sink.

 

He heard his mother take a breath. “Why didn’t you come back home ?”

 

Stuart bit into his apple, turning around as he went back on his steps, heading for the exit of the kitchen to the living room. “I told you, I was out.”

 

Rachel responded with a slightly raised tone. “Stuart. You were gone for almost an entire day.”

 

The boy stopped walking, however he didn’t turn around. He was almost at the door frame. He could hear the noise from the refrigerator. His gaze lowered slightly. “Huh…”

 

“You left at 10 PM yesterday. It’s 3 in the afternoon now.”

 

Stuart felt his heart jump. He really had lost track of time. Taking a breath in, he tried to maintain his character, slowly turning to look at Rachel. “I’m sorry, mom. It won’t happen again, alright ?”

 

A few seconds passed before his mom gave him a nonreassuring smile. The boy bit into his apple again, keeping his gaze on his mom until he headed outside of the kitchen.

 

He had to fight the overwhelming urge to scream in pain whenever he took another step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit always hurts to read.
> 
> Don’t worry ! This has a happy ending. Or maybe not.


	9. IX

Murdoc walked. And walked. And walked. He had spent about an hour at the boardwalk. While stepping on wood in the sun wasn’t the most pleasant activity he could come up with, he couldn’t get his brain to work that much. Blame the hangover.

 

He couldn’t remember what had happened last night, and with whom. He didn’t want to either. For once, he could forget, and he was fine with it.

 

His head towards the shore and his mind far, far away, he bumped into another person who was walking in the opposite direction.

 

“Sorry.” He succeeded to articulate a word, however not bothering to stop his walk, trying to get his mind back to where it was before the interruption.

 

“ _ Hey _ …”

 

He stopped; he could recognize that voice in a million. Turning around, his gaze met a smiling Stuart.

 

“Oh… Hey.” The man replied slowly.

 

He had the same skimpy boyish clothing, the same slight tan, the same borderline anorexic wrists and hands.

 

_ Quit your daydreaming, sicko. _

 

“I’m sorry, er…” The man cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to… do that.”

 

“I know…” The boy watched Murdoc casually walk a few steps closer, leaning against the wood fence.

 

As he got a closer look, the man noticed a certain change in Stuart. He used to see a spark in his eyes all the time.

 

“Are you alright ?” Right, he was speaking without thinking, again.

 

Stuart gave a mocking chuckle, his gaze elsewhere. “None of your business.”

 

He jumped onto the fence to sit on it. Murdoc then had to slightly tilt his head to look back at the other. He had to turn his head to the side as well.

 

He watched the wind blow through the blue strands of hair. They looked dangerously soft. He spotted a bandaid on the boy’s neck. Dried colorless spots on his shirt.

 

“The lotion’s doing wonders.” The man spoke distractingly again.

 

Slightly embarrassed, he looked back into Stuart’s eyes, only to see that stupid smile plastered on his face again.

 

_ My lips would feel so good on that. _

 

“I’m glad to hear.” Stuart responded, stepping off of the fence and back onto the ground.

 

He was about to leave. Murdoc gulped. Something inside of him was screaming to not let the boy go.

 

“You… You hungry ?” He asked simply, a little louder to be heard through the wind.

 

He made Stuart turn on his heels, staring back at him again. “Yeah.” He replied. “That’s why I was... walking away. Not because I hate you, or anything.”

 

Murdoc scoffed. “I’d understand anyway. I’m easy to hate.”

 

And there was that spark in his eyes again. The boy was looking at him, his arms crossed and a hint of a smile. “I… was heading back home actually.”

 

Murdoc nodded to the other’s words, trying to look like he was paying attention.

 

_ You probably look more like an idiot. _

 

“Let me tell you… Food’s better by the sea.” The man added.

 

Stuart’s smile had faded. “I don’t have any money.”

 

Murdoc shrugged. “I’ll get it for you.”

 

The boy seemed a little surprised, although he didn’t let it show for too long. “Really ?”

 

The older man put his hands in his pockets casually. “You up for ice cream ?”

 

And there was that smile again. With the spark in his eyes, it was even better. As they walked away from the boardwalk, the man wondered if he was the one who brought that spark back into the boy.

 

_ It can’t be. _

 

Sitting on a bench, they both watched the waves as they ate. However, Murdoc wasn’t eating much. His ice cream sat melting in the plastic bowl, and now he was ruminating on the inside, paranoid about ocean pollution. He turned for a second to take a look at Stuart; he was licking all over his orange sorbet.

 

“You look like you haven’t eaten in years.” The man sounded harsher than he had intended to.

 

Still, the boy didn’t take offense to it, busy licking his precious ice cream. “I ate this morning. I just really like oranges.”

 

Murdoc forced his food into his mouth, looking ahead of him again. He hadn’t seen his friends since last night, however, he found himself not caring so much. They couldn’t even come by and say a word to him at the bar anyway.

 

“How’s work ?” He asked out of the blue.

 

Stuart leaned back against the bench, turning to the other. He winced slightly at the mention of work. “Eh… I had a shorter shift today. Thank God.”

 

This time it was Murdoc’s turn to wince, at the mention of God. He took a last spoonful of ice cream before his bowl was empty.

“You don’t like working there huh.” He leaned back on the bench as well.

 

The boy shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It just gets a little... boring, at times.”

 

Murdoc looked away, nodding slowly.

 

“And lonely.” Stuart added.

 

The man let out a small  _ hm _ , giving off the impression he was interested. He was getting tired of pretending. His empty ice cream bowl sat on the bench, between his legs.

 

“I told my mom I have work colleagues.” The boy mentioned.

 

Murdoc smiled slightly. “You little rebel...”

 

“I just don’t want to bother her.” Stuart explained. “She gets so upset over nothing sometimes.”

 

Murdoc looked ahead of him again. He could only wish to have those kinds of moments with his parents. He usually made them up out of his own head.

 

“Well sometimes parents just don’t understand.” He adhered to the teenage psychology, and it worked; Stuart smiled, but only for so long.

 

They were looking at each other, then suddenly it was over, and the boy was avoiding his gaze.

“Thank you, for... the help.”

 

Murdoc was only getting out of his own mind when the boy stood up, throwing his leftovers in the trash.

 

“See ya around.” The man heard.

 

He waved as a response. He soon realized he was staring, and so he returned to the ocean waves. They didn’t look so interesting anymore.


	10. X

Rachel was driving back home, after a long work day. She took a left into the neighborhood, watching as youngsters were playing, running, biking. When she arrived home, her eyes searched for Stuart outside. All she saw was a bike, left near the house. It wasn’t leaning against the wall; it was laid carelessly on the grass, near the pavement.

 

She stepped into the house, brown bags in hands. As she went to drop the bags on the counter, she noticed the mop of blue hair over the couch in the living room. Standing at the door frame of the kitchen, she crossed her arms, watching her son from afar. The best of distraction the boy had found were the faint sounds coming from the cheap, old television.

 

Stuart hadn’t gone biking for a while now. It wasn’t in his habits, but it wasn’t like he was paying attention to the old man talking bullshit on the screen. Seconds after, he would switch channels, pressing the button on the remote aimlessly. He had sat there all evening long, after a rather eventless work shift.

 

Rachel ended up walking away, back into the kitchen to pack out the groceries. The boy was barely blinking; it was like he was on another planet, the images from the screen coming into his iris in a soft blur. He still discerned some of them.

 

A passionate kiss. Press the button. A bleeding arm. Press the button. An old man on the news again. Press the-

 

Wait.

 

Stuart’s eyes flickered fully towards the television. Everything was still a haze, but he was listening now.

 

The adults were all sitting behind a counter; that’s how every news channel worked. There was an old man, almost bald with white hairs, and he was speaking. The two other people sitting with him looked like they were forcing themselves to listen.

 

_I’m not saying that it’s not something that should be taken seriously._

 

Stuart furrowed his eyebrows slowly.

 

_I’m just saying that… if women- people saw it in a different perspective, it wouldn’t be as much of a big deal as it is now._

 

His eyes widened. His lips parted.

 

_And innocent men wouldn’t be put in jail for n-_

 

Press the button; a different one this time. The boy made his way out of the living room, directly heading for the stairs. Even though he did his best to act normal, Rachel still looked up from the groceries.

 

He walked all the way into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He paced back and forth, a hand on his mouth. Tears were dangerously close; when he blinked some of them flew out and onto the rug he was passing by.

 

Realizing he was truly crying about it now, Stuart kicked down his small drawer, resulting in a bigger mess than he had expected.

 

“Fuck.” He whispered through clenched teeth, before leaning his back against the wall.

 

He let his body slide down slowly, until he was sitting on the floor. His knees went to his chest, both hands reaching for his hair, pulling hard. All of the tears ran out in a heavy mess.

 

He stopped all of the sounds when he heard a knock on the door that made his heart skip a beat. “Stu, honey, is everything alright ?”

 

He sniffed as silently as he could, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweater. He nodded slowly, more to himself than a response to his mom. She did use his real name after all.

 

“Yes, mom… I just dropped something by accident. I’m fine.”

 

On the other side, Rachel wasn’t convinced the slightest. However, she knew that sometimes teenagers needed a little more space for themselves. So she took a breath.

 

“Good. Make sure you come back downstairs for dinner later on.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Stuart managed to let out an answer again. He listened to his mother walk back down the stairs. The tears were still rushing out. And he was too tired to clean up the mess. He held his knees to his chest, waiting for the suffering to end. At least he could breathe normally now.


	11. XI

Murdoc walked out of a small grocery store, a bag or two in hands. Reusable ones, of course. He turned to his left, walking back to his apartment since he went out without a car. Stupid Wensley took it without telling him. Murdoc had fumed over it for a good half an hour until he’d gotten busy deciding which rum looked tastier in the alcohol section. The man stopped his walk at an intersection, seeing the lights for the cars had just turned green.

 

He was in the city part of the town; it was a rather peculiar town. He could smell the gas, the sewers, the trash, most of it toned down with the help of the ocean nearby, thankfully. If he looked to his left, he could see sand from afar, and the skatepark too. It put a fast image of Stuart in his mind that he fought hard to dissipate until the car lights turned red.

 

Crossing the street, alongside a few other people, his eyes met with a familiar figure, although it wasn’t quite fully familiar. Some of their traits were more foreign to Murdoc. He didn’t stare for long, immediately looking back in front of him, his gaze low.

 

If it wasn’t  _ him _ , that person looked a lot like  _ him _ . The strands of gray in his hair, slight muscular frame, traces of green in his eyes. Murdoc almost felt himself shiver.

 

_ It wasn’t him. Smoke a joint, you pussy. _

 

This encounter brought back some lost pieces of puzzle in Murdoc’s head. The pieces he had lost by drinking his goddamn soul away, and accepting to get groped in public by a crazy lady. He shivered again. That night wasn’t the best one of his life, to say the least.

 

Some things were still left blurry, even after hard reflexion.

 

_ What was he doing that night ? He was with Stuart, right… How long did they hang out ? _

 

He had completely forgotten what the man was wearing that night; he tried to force his brain to work.

 

_ Where did they go ? They couldn’t be just walking around past midnight. _

 

Murdoc walked with a ping in his stomach. Or at least that’s where it seemed to be. It hurt close to his heart, invading his intestines. He felt like he could vomit any minute. 

 

When he almost bumped into a building, he decided to postpone his inner conversation. He turned the corner of the building, a business building. Through the glass wall, the old man was standing behind a desk, probably looking at a bunch of data, on a flat computer that was probably really expensive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn’t love filler chapters ?
> 
> They’re annoying to some but absolutely necessary to the storyline. The wait will be worth it hopefully !
> 
> My stories are never that popular, so thanks to the few who have left kudos so far. :)


	12. XII

Murdoc walked passed the ice cream shop. Dark clouds hinted an approaching storm, menacing to pour at any hour. He walked passed the people wandering casually on the sidewalk. Some of them gave him quick looks, probably wondering why he was going so fast.

 

After a rather restless night, the man had forced himself to wake up early to avoid making excuses to his « friends » again. He had drank a little too much the night before, and he hated himself for it. The hangover was hitting hard in his head; hopefully the drugs would kick in soon.

 

Pushing the door open, Murdoc headed straight for the counter. The boy walked in from the back room almost simultaneously, met face to face with the other as he arrived. Only the counter separated them.

 

“What are you doing here ?” Stuart spoke almost under his breath.

 

The man had his hands on the counter. “I’m here to buy something.” 

 

The boy frowned. “No, you’re not.”

 

Murdoc didn’t understand the reaction. The younger was already getting busy, heading to an alley to place new products, which were waiting there in a cart.

 

The man followed him persistently. “The weather’s shit.”

 

“And ?” Stuart did his task as if he was in a hurry. One tiny bottle after another. He misplaced two.

 

Murdoc noticed, but didn’t comment on it. “I don’t think you have a car.”

 

The boy turned to him for a second. “Do ya ?”

 

A couple seconds of silence from Murdoc. “No…” He admitted halfheartedly.

 

Stuart stopped his work, turning around fully to look at the other. He crossed his arms.

 

Murdoc smiled slightly, showing the object he was holding. “I got an umbrella.”

 

-

 

Stepping outside, harsh rain was already pouring down all over the town. There barely were any people left nearby. The two of them walked beside each other, under the black umbrella. Stuart put the hood of his sweater on, but at this point, getting water on himself was pretty much inevitable.

 

“On your left.” The boy said to Murdoc to advise him of the path they had to take towards his house.

 

He often felt the man’s eyes on him. He didn’t know if he liked it or not.

 

“Why’re ya lookin’ at me like that ?” He finally asked, curiosity practically eating him alive.

 

Murdoc looked back in front of him immediately. “Is it natural ?”

 

Stuart frowned, turning to him. “What ?”

 

“The, uh…” The man gestured to his own head to emphasize. “... hair.”

 

The boy stepped over a sewer. “How’d you guess that ?”

 

“You never got any roots. And you seem too broke for bleach.” Murdoc tried to shrug it off, like it wasn’t something he had been observing.

 

Stuart seemed offended for a second, but quickly brushed it off. “And you knew I wasn’t blonde.”

 

“Blame it on the dots all over your body.”

 

They finished crossing a street. Almost right as he spoke, Murdoc spotted a car coming full speed behind them. He pressed a hand on Stuart’s lower back, gently pushing him towards the sidewalk, and away from the street.

 

“Careful.” He let the words out casually.

 

Not so in shock, but more-so surprised, the boy looked up at him as they walked. When he got out of his haze, he quickly looked away. He felt the hand slide away from his back.


	13. XIII

_ [ song: The Suburbs by Arcade Fire ] _

 

_ In the suburbs, I _

 

Murdoc walked casually near the shore, stopping by an isolated alleyway. Another person was standing against the wall, waiting there for him.

 

“Where’s my shite ?” Murdoc spoke lowly as he arrived.

 

_ I learned to drive _

 

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Stuart wandered around on his bike, wind in his hair. His bike was an old model, the kind with a basket in the front. The boy had brought a small quantity of snacks in it.

 

Unbothered by Murdoc’s attitude, the dealer brought a small bag out of his jeans pocket. The older man reached for it, but the other took it away right at the moment. 

 

“Where’s my money ?” The dealer snapped back arrogantly.

 

_ And you told me we’d never survive _

 

Stuart left his bike on the ground as he arrived to a very specific part of the beach. The part where there were usually no people in sight, and a lot of tall grass before the sand grounds.

 

Murdoc growled, looking away stubbornly as he handed a pile of cash to the dealer. 

 

_ Grab your mother’s keys, we’re leaving _

 

The exchange over, the older man walked back in his steps, hiding the precious bag in the pocket under his coat. He stopped walking when he noticed Stuart from afar, sitting in the grass near the beach.

 

The boy was biting in a nectarine when his eyes met Murdoc’s, a couple of miles away from each other. He smiled, his eyes darting back to the ocean.

 

Murdoc didn’t move until he saw a few people arrive and sit by Stuart’s side, chatting and laughing. He resumed his walk to go join his friends, even if he didn’t want to.

 

_ You always seemed so sure _

 

“Yo ! Stu-Pot !”

 

The boy made a polite smile as his two friends went up to him, joining without asking.

 

_ That one day we’d be fighting _

 

“We’re heading out in a minute.” His friend Tom said as he sat down, a knee up and a hand on it.

 

_ In a suburban war _

 

“It’s a party at Keith’s house.” The other added. Stuart didn’t know him as much; he was more of a friend’s friend.

 

_ Your part of town against mine _

 

Seeing the boy wasn’t quite reacting to their conversation, Tom observed him. “You should come.”

 

Stuart was looking ahead of him.

 

_ I saw you standing on the opposite shore _

 

“Murdoc, mate, come closer.”

 

His closest friend, Roger, called him up immediately as he saw him coming back to the gang.

 

_ But by the time the first bombs fell _

 

“In the mood to suck me off ?” Murdoc’s bad temper at least got him a couple laughs from the others.

 

_ We were already bored _

 

Roger elbowed Murdoc’s shoulder casually, a smirk on his face. “We’re gonna trash this shitty college party tonite. You down ?”

 

_ We were already, already bored _

 

“Hell yeah.” He responded simply as they all got on their bikes.

 

_ Sometimes I can’t believe it _

 

They rode on the shore for a while before entering the neighborhood near the beach. The skies were already turning a peachy color. Some people were strolling on the sidewalks.

 

_ I’m moving past the feeling _

 

The door was unlocked. They walked in the house, Roger in head. He threw his arms up, yelling. “Whassup people !”

 

_ Sometimes I can’t believe it _

 

They drank, and they drank, a lot of younger girls around them. Murdoc loved their presence, but found a way to escape their kisses every time, laughing it off. 

 

_ I’m moving past the feeling again _

 

Almost already tired from the noise and the bad alcohol, the older man slowly walked back outside, a plastic cup in his hands. He stood on the porch for a while, when none other than Stuart stumbled outside as well. His steps were a little messy.

 

_ I’m moving past the feeling… _

 

_ [ song fades gradually ] _

 

When Stuart noticed the man, he turned around, stepping to go stand next to him, against the house’s horribly cheap vinyl. “This party’s bollocks.” 

 

Murdoc brought his drink to his mouth, realizing it was already empty. He didn’t go back inside to get another one. “Myeah… You go to college ?”

 

“Sorta. Nobody really likes me there.” The boy shrugged. Murdoc realized their arms were almost touching.

 

“It’s their own fuckin’ problem then.” The man spitted, slightly angry. “Kids, these days.”

He let the last sentence out under his breath, without thought.

 

Stuart looked at him for a second, but ended up showing anger as well. “I know right… They’re fakes.”

 

“How so ?” Murdoc took a chance to push it further, remembering the last party he went to.

 

The boy chuckled bitterly. “They put you in deep shit, right. Then they act like it never happened… Like everything’s alright.”

 

Murdoc laughed slightly at the other’s behavior. “Watch out there, remember you’re one of them too.”

 

“I don’t feel like it sometimes !” The boy raised his hands in desperation, only to put them back down. He turned around, and away from the wall, to have a better look at the older man. “I feel more... like you. Like one of them ol’ blokes.”

 

“It didn’t sound so bad until you called me old.” Murdoc replied with a hint of a smile, crossing his arms. He had left his drink on a small coffee table nearby.

 

“I’m sorry…” Stuart said with a pout, while taking a few steps away. He pressed his hands on the wooden porch fence, turning around to give the older man a pitiful smile.

 

Murdoc looked down, and away, at the suburb’s streets and houses. The sky was now a shade of purple, close to dark blue.

 

The boy brought him out of his haze. “Your bike. Do you think I can fit on it ?”

 

The older man frowned, confused. “I mean, er… ‘Pretty sure you would.”

 

Stuart excitingly stumbled out of the porch through the stairs, and up to the gathering of bikes in the grass. “Which one’s yours ?”

 

Murdoc was following closely, with a calmer stroll. He put his bike up, assuming his actions were giving away the answer for him.

 

“Yeah, it looks like yours.” Stuart remarked. 

 

The older man sat on the engine, and soon the boy was doing the same, behind him. He took a  look at the porch for any presence of people before starting the bike, and riding away from the neighborhood.

 

At this moment, Roger walked out of the house, perceiving the two of them on the bike. He took notice of the boy’s blue hair. His brows furrowed, he quickly brought his cup to his mouth to down the drink, before crushing it with his hands. He let it fall on the ground as he left to go back inside the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Suburbs... Beautiful, beautiful song.
> 
> It was stuck in my head the day I wrote this chapter. And with what I was envisioning, I had no choice to leave it in.
> 
> This isn’t supposed to be a song fic, but I’d easily picture it as a movie ! A shitty movie, but I mean... I can dream ok.


	14. XIV

The two of them exited the neighborhood on the motorbike. Stuart had forgotten about his bike; he left it at the party house. He was looking around at the town he knew so well darken with the night. The lamp posts brought hues of lights to the decor. All of it was enough to play with his drunken mind, and he smiled.

 

When he looked ahead of him, he realized that Murdoc was about to take a turn towards the boy’s neighborhood.

 

“No ! Wait !” Stuart yelled as loud as he could, grabbing onto the man’s shoulders.

 

Murdoc stopped the bike quickly, on the side of the road. When he looked behind him, he seemed a little annoyed. Or pissed off.

“What is it ?”

 

Stuart looked away. “I don’t wanna go home…”

 

The older man groaned.

 

The boy looked back at him, a little bit of sadness in his eyes. “I want to see your place.”

 

Too hammered to even argue with a college boy, Murdoc had gotten back on the road, executing a messy _U_ turn as they went back on their path. The road was similar for Stuart until they entered the city.

 

After parking the bike, they climbed a pair or two of metal stairs on the verge of a considerably tall, gray building. Murdoc was constantly looking behind him.

 

At the door, the older man rummaged in his pockets to find his keys for a few seconds. Stuart watched him with an oddly focused attention.

 

Stepping into the apartment, the boy took slow steps, his eyes wandering everywhere, from the empty glass bottles laying around to the lightbulb flickering in the back of the kitchen area.

“Oh… Fancy.” It was the only word he came up with.

 

Murdoc closed the door behind him, locking it with his keys. He took a fag from a pack of cigarettes, on a small table next to the door.

 

When Stuart turned around, he saw the older man light up his cigarette, bringing it to his mouth. He was fascinated by the small dots of orange fire at the end of the object.

 

“Ya want one ?” Murdoc asked, after exhaling the smoke. The boy nodded, walking up to him as the other reached in the pack.

 

Stuart took the cigarette, while Murdoc brought his hand into his pocket again.

 

“Here, let me light it for ya.”

 

The boy put the fag between his lips, his eyes on Murdoc as the man flicked the lighter open, letting the flame hit the end of the cigarette, quickly, but gently.

 

They looked at each other for barely a second. Then Stuart walked away to the couch. He let himself fall on it, closing his eyes as he inhaled the nicotine.

 

Murdoc was observing his manners, still standing near the door. “So. You smoke.”

 

The boy exhaled. “Occasionally, yea.”

 

“Be honest”, The man began. “Who pressured you into doing that ?” He asked almost jokingly, letting his fag hit the ground before he stepped on it.

 

Stuart had one arm on the couch’s armrest. It took him a while to respond.

“... Nobody… My mates... They don’t really pressure me into anything.” He inhaled. “They don’t really care for me.”

 

Murdoc took a few steps away from the door. “How’s that ?”

 

It seemed hard to think for the boy. He leaned forward on the couch. “I uh...”

 

He looked up, as the older man took his cigarette from his hand, finishing it for him. It seemed to come back to him for a second.

“They let me down.”

 

He watched Murdoc sit down on the armchair, crosswise with the couch. Even though he was watching, he didn’t feel like they were in the same room right now.

 

“Then I don’t see a point in hanging out with them.” The man let out carelessly.

 

Stuart was still lost in his thoughts, trying to collect them. “They left me… Alone… At night…”

 

“Stu…” Suddenly the older man sobered up, leaning forward on his seat. Regretting purposely making the conversation take a turn.

 

The boy was leaning back on the couch, an elbow on the armrest. He looked away to his left, biting his lip, as one tear drop ran down on his right cheek. The part of his face that Murdoc could see.

 

He knew what Stuart was thinking about. What was making him cry so suddenly, even while drunk and fueled on nicotine on a Friday night.

 

“I know… I was there… That night…” The man began.

 

The boy was still looking away, trying his best to wipe his tears, with his naked hands. The sleeves of his shirt were too short.

 

Murdoc spoke carefully. “I was there… I- I wish I could have done something…”

 

He pressed a hand on the boy’s knee; it made the other flinch slightly. Stuart finally looked at him. The man could see how broken he was inside, through his eyes. The spark was gone again.

 

“It hurt, Murdoc… It hurt… So bad…”

 

The older man couldn’t help but look away, anger boiling inside. But then the boy was standing up, and he had to stand up too.

 

Stuart was fumbling with his words, sobering up as well. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I just... wanted to see your place…”

 

Instinctively, Murdoc grabbed the boy’s wrists. It made him flinch again. The man made sure to look at him in the eyes. “Hey, wake up. _Dullard_.”

 

The insult came in almost too easily. Stuart didn’t react in any way. He was still sniffing like a crying child. His hands were shaky.

 

Instinctively, Murdoc leaned in, and pressed his lips onto the boy’s, closing his eyes, still holding onto small wrists.

 

Stuart seemed shocked for a second, before he responded lazily. His eyes fluttered closed, he relaxed into the touch.

 

If he was sober, the older man would have dreaded the moment he had to pull away. On that Friday night, his body and his brain intoxicated, it felt natural. Like he wasn’t doing this for the first time.

 

Pulling away, Murdoc kept a very short distance between the two of them. They locked eyes, breathing slightly heavily, before their lips met again. None of them quite knew who leaned in first.

 

The man _was_ truly doing this for the first time. Those stupid girls were always so dry, so emotionless. Stuart was the encouraging kind; his lanky arms went around Murdoc’s neck slowly, after the man had let go of his wrists. And now he was parting his lips shyly, like a silent consent.

 

Murdoc hesitantly pressed his hand to the boy’s waist. Realizing how frail his figure was, he wondered for half a second if he was making a mistake. Stuart felt like he was melting under the man’s touch, the complete opposite from his first experience. Or whatever that was.

 

Then Murdoc was pulling away.

“Stu…” He repeated, just like a few minutes ago, when they were at a friendly distance. They were both trying to catch their breath, eyeing each other like candy, not a care in the world for the harsh nicotine and cheap alcohol smell.

 

The older man slid his hands to the boy’s arms. He rubbed one of them gently with a thumb. “You « just wanted to see my place », huh ?”

 

“Yeah…” Still catching his breath, Stuart nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“Well there’s a room you haven’t seen yet.” Murdoc spoke quickly. He casually grabbed the boy’s hand on his way.


	15. XV

They walked in what was the usual man cave. A cheap, small radio was sitting on the carpeted floor. A couple of clothes were laying around in paresse. His bed was made, to the very least.

 

After taking a quick look around, Stuart looked back at the older man. “You don’t have… books… or anything…”

 

Murdoc chuckled. “Actually yes, I do. Sorta.” He walked towards a worn out commode, taking a dusty book out of a drawer. It had a leathery, dark red cover.

 

The boy took steps closer, intrigued. “ _The Occult for dummies_ ?” He read out loud.

 

The man was staring at the book, a bittersweet feeling engraved in the slight smile on his face. “This was the first book I bought on the topic, when my dad...”

 

Stuart seemed to get the message, even with an unfinished sentence. “It was your escape.”

 

Murdoc traced the patterns on the book with a finger. “Yep.”

 

The boy was looking up at him, smiling. “Das’ a cool way to escape things.”

 

The older man scoffed. “That’s what I used to think.” He walked up to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. “That shite got me in a lot of trouble.”

 

Stuart jumped on the bed, right next to him, taking a peak as Murdoc was flipping pages.

 

They talked about it for what felt like hours, but it was really only fifteen minutes. The older man explained a couple of theories, the ones that could be explained out loud. The boy usually laughed, or gasped in admiration. They ended up laying down on the bed on their back, trying to read occult language. Even Murdoc hadn’t mastered that art yet.

 

_[ music: The Good Side / Troye Sivan ]_

 

“No, no- That’s not how you say it !” Stuart managed to let out between an undying laughter.

 

Murdoc smirked. “And who are you to say that ?”

 

“No- Here, let me show you !” The boy took the book straight out of the man’s hands. He pointed to a specific sentence, his eyes glued on it as he tried to articulate it. He ended up failing, which only resulted in his laughter making a strong comeback.

 

Murdoc caught himself laughing slightly, looking at the other. Stuart caught him staring, and as he stared back, his laughter died slowly. His eyes were cornered with tears, his lips tracing a lopsided grin.

 

The older man cupped the boy’s face with the palm of his hand, kissing him lovingly. He felt the other’s smile still on his lips. He rubbed on the softness of Stuart’s cheek with his thumb, savouring the adrenaline invading his body.

 

The book slipped out of the boy’s hands; it landed on the floor. He felt the man tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, and he shivered. Catching himself shaking again, he went to wrap his fingers around Murdoc’s wrist.

 

“Stu…” The older repeated, once again that night. He looked at him closely, making sure he wasn’t going too fast. Then, he brought his hand to the end of the boy’s shirt.

 

Stuart closed his eyes, feeling a warm hand slide up to his chest, where he stopped it with his own hand, in a reflex. Gasping for air, he locked eyes with Murdoc again. The man looked desperate, disappointed, something starting with a _d_.

 

“You don’t trust me ?” The man’s voice was almost a whisper, brushing against the soft duvet on the side of Stuart’s cheek.

 

The younger nodded hurriedly. “Yea. I… I do.” He gathered all the strength he had, releasing his grip as Murdoc resumed his actions. Then, intrigued by what he was feeling, the older lifted the boy’s shirt.

 

His gaze lowered, and he traced the lines of the scars, fascinated. “Y’know… I studied art, for a while…”

 

Still nervous, Stuart listened, his breath erratic.

 

“I’ve never seen such nice engraving.” Murdoc completed. He kept his voice low.

 

The boy felt his heart warm. Nobody saw his scars like that. He went to bury his fingers through the older man’s dark curls. They were oddly soft.

 

Almost surprised by the touch, Murdoc looked up. He saw a much more relaxed Stuart, who was looking back at him.

 

“Keep at it, old man.” The boy said.

 

So he went for the younger’s shorts zipper, and for his own shirt as well. Their lips met again, in more passion. He ended up laying over Stuart’s exposed pale body, under the bedsheets. He held onto a thigh, slipping his tongue in that wonderful, warm mouth again.

 

They were both breathing heavily, through their noses. The boy was fiddling to find Murdoc’s jeans zipper, with clear lack of experience. The man ended up pulling away from their endless kiss, not without regret. Stuart looked back at him, with a hint of confusion.

 

“Stuart…” This time the older man said his full name. “Are you sure about this ?”

 

The boy didn’t know if he liked the nickname more. He smiled, mouthing the words while Murdoc said them. He giggled at himself, nodding frenetiquely. “Yes… Yes, Murdoc. I am.”

 

As they kissed again, the older man reached into his jeans’ back pocket. He was almost certain he always had a condom loitering in there; and he was right. He pulled away, a smiley Stuart eyeing his every move.

 

Sliding down his jeans with one hand, he felt an odd discomfort with the exposure. Most women did like it better from the back; none of them cared to look at him.

 

But now, he had a naive and impressed boy looking at him. His eyes were rapidly moving, not able to focus on one source of entertainment. Murdoc kissed him again while he slipped the condom on. He took the time to ravish in the sensation of their skin, so close.

 

When he went to raise his upper body with his elbows, Stuart did the same. The man pushed him back down, earning more giggles from the younger.

 

“Stay.” Murdoc said. He was only half serious.

 

The older reached under the cheap bed with one of his arms, sticking his tongue out slightly. “Ah.” He exclaimed once he found what he was looking for.

 

The boy eyed the small container curiously. “What’s that ?”

 

“Shut it…” The older man fumbled with the container. He spoke between his teeth, coming off as annoyed. Truth is, he wasn’t.

 

Stuart had the instinct to wrap his arms around Murdoc’s neck, now that they were closer. He leaned tentatively towards the man’s skin. He admired the slightly dark color of it, before pressing his lips on the skin gently. Then, again. And again. And again.

 

The older pushed the container back under his bed once he was done. He inhaled deeply at the boy’s touch. His lips were soft, the kisses slightly wet with saliva. He growled. “Hey, blue boy.”

 

Stuart stopped his actions, looking back at the other. “Hm ?...” He replied with a soft smile.

 

“Look at me.” Murdoc was serious as ever. “Alright ?... Don’t look away.”

 

The boy looked down at the other’s actions for a second, before his heartbeat went up immediately, along with his breath. He obeyed, keeping his eyes on the older man, who didn’t seem as wasted as he did. However, the olive in his eyes had an unusual glow.

 

When Murdoc looked up, he was in awe with the beauty of the sight. Tears inched their way out of Stuart’s blue eyes. The dampness of sweat on his skin brought out each of his freckles. The blue hairs spread on the dark pillow. His lips were reddened, slightly parted in an attempt to take more air in.

 

_Somebody sent me an angel._

 

The man didn’t know how he dared to start moving, thrusting his hips under the covers. Stuart looked like he was being tortured; he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. The boy’s face was still emotionless.

 

“Is that alright ?” Murdoc spoke between his breaths. He had to try his hardest to contain himself.

 

The younger nodded slowly. “Myeah…” His words were barely audible. “Kiss me…”

 

The older man obeyed; hopefully it would diminish the pain. He kept his pace steady, and slow, accommodating to Stuart in the best way.

 

When he pulled away from the kiss, the boy tightened his hold around Murdoc’s neck, bringing him closer and closer. The room was silent, except for their heavy breaths and the movement of the sheets.

 

Stuart let out a moan when the man slightly picked up the pace. The pain was gradually disappearing, replaced by a feeling he had never felt before. Not even with…

 

He felt the tears run on the sides of his face just from one simple thought. Murdoc noticed it, and kissed him tenderly.

 

“I told you to look at me.”

 

The boy obeyed once again. “S-Sorry…” He whispered. It was odd for the man to see him so vulnerable. He kissed the younger again, before slowly lowering his head to his neck. He gave a few pecks before attempting a small bite. Stuart gasped. It only drew a bit of blood. And it painted the pale skin with beautiful purples and reds.

 

Murdoc grabbed both of the boy’s thighs, for better access. He let out a low growl. “Satan… You feel so good…”

 

“Me… or Satan ?” Stuart whispered, half a smile cornering his mouth.

 

The older man groaned in annoyance, slamming his lips onto the other’s. He couldn’t tell if he was in love, or… or…

 

_Or what ?_

 

He heard the boy moan, and it sent shivers down his spine. He broke the kiss only to lock eyes with Stuart again, picking up the pace slightly. He was still proceeding with caution.

 

The younger slid his hands down on Murdoc’s back. The man could feel his nails scratching a little, but he knew it wasn’t on purpose. Stuart went all the way down, pushing the covers away until he cupped the other’s backside.

 

The room wasn’t silent anymore. The vocal response from the both of them were more and more frequent. Their skin met in sloppy, wet sounds. The bed frame creaked with their movement, once in a while.

 

“Murdoc…” Stuart whined, a string of saliva trailing down the corner of his mouth.

 

The older man was still mesmerized with the sight. He could feel the high coming, closer and closer. He felt the boy’s walls tighten around him; he watched the other come undone, under him, in his room, because of him. He could hardly contain himself anymore.

 

Their lips met as Stuart was slowly coming back on Earth, his breathing stabilizing. He exhaled deeply as Murdoc pulled out, still hard as a rock. The boy couldn’t help but stare, his lips parted.

 

The older man pressed a hand on the back of Stuart’s neck. “Come.” He brought the younger with him as he sat up, only to lay back down, on the other side of the bed, on his back.

 

The boy was half laid next to Murdoc’s body. He let the other guide him by a hand in his hair, farther down. He let the large member enter his mouth, almost fully.

 

“ _Bluebird…_ ” The man groaned, guiding Stuart’s head up and down with a good grip on a chunk of blue hair.

 

The younger looked up at him with big, sparkling eyes. Murdoc reached the highest high of his lifetime. He released himself all the way down the boy’s throat.

 

As soon as he was done he brought Stuart’s head back up. The younger smiled, giggles tickling out of his throat as Murdoc went to kiss him. He was pinned down on the bed again.

 

They made out for what felt like hours, but it was really only five minutes.


	16. XVI

Murdoc woke up in his bed, tangled in the bedsheets, and most importantly, alone. Squinting his eyes at the harrassing light from the window, the man slowly sat up. He rubbed on his eye harshly, feeling the beginning of a terrible headache.

 

Hungover again.

 

It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it; he woke up like this most mornings. He didn’t know how to survive otherwise. But every time never hurt less.

 

He put on a pair of boxers he found on the floor, standing up and heading to the bathroom. He opened the cabinet, grabbing a random bottle of pills to numb the pain. Not bothering to even look in the mirror, he swallowed a few, dryly.

 

Coming back into his room, he heard something extremely unfamiliar: a quick vibration had come from his smartphone, sitting on the bedside table. He frowned as he picked it up. The phone had a little dust on it.

 

When he pressed the button to turn the apparel on, he saw nothing but one notification. It was a text message.

 

_ Strange. I never get those. _

 

Tapping on the messaging application, he saw the message was from a number he didn’t recognize. He decided to read it anyway.

 

| sorry i left early  |

| didn't wanna make my mum upset |

 

| i wish i could have stayed |

 

At the end of the message bubbles was one last bubble, with only a tiny, matte black heart inside of it. 

 

If Murdoc could only trace some of the elements from last night, even a hangover couldn’t make him forget about Stuart. He smiled, but only for a second. He would have at least wanted to have a talk with the boy in the morning.

 

For a minute he searched for the heart emoji on his keyboard, without any results. He groaned frustratedly.

 

_ I hate technology. _

 

| how’d you get my number ? |

 

He decided on typing, leaving his phone back on the table as he searched lazily for clothes to put on. He was shuffling to stick his foot in a pant leg when he heard the vibration again. He was oddly drawn to it.

 

_ I feel like a fuckin’ teenager. _

 

| i looked it up on ur phone |

 

| you look beautiful when you sleep |

 

Murdoc turned his phone off after reading the latest messages. He didn’t know how to feel.

 

_ Does he know what he’s getting himself into ? _

 

_ Am I disturbed for doing this to him ? _

 

He left the device on the table, grabbing his jacket on his way out of the flat. He needed a long, long walk.


	17. XVII

Stuart stumbled down the stairs, a little late in the morning, but not as late as usual. He still had his pajamas, and only one of his ankle socks on.

 

“Hey mom ! Hey dad !” He exclaimed, before arriving in the kitchen to get himself something to eat. He didn’t find anyone.

 

David was sitting in the living room, watching television.

 

“Where’s mom ?” Stuart asked him.

 

His father turned around only to answer to him. “She had some… last minute calls.”

 

The boy nodded.

 

“She’ll be there tomorrow, Stu.” His dad attempted to be reassuring before turning back to the television, seeing the commercial break had ended.

 

A little less enthusiastically, Stuart went back on his steps. He opened a cabinet to make himself some cereal. He realized there wasn’t any left.

 

Seeing it was really what he wanted to eat, he decided on something. He smiled to himself, closing the cabinet.

 

“I’m going out dad, I’ll be back in a bit !” He yelled as he pushed the front door open.

 

He brought an energy drink on his way, compensating for last night’s heavy drinking.

 

Once outside, he took a few minutes only to realize he couldn’t find his bike. Determined on his task, he told himself he was going to take a walk today. Not that the grocery store was too far from his house anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow ! One day without an upload and the next day I manage to only post fillers ? I suck !!
> 
> But I still posted two chapters in a row today since I forgot about it yesterday. I’d apologize but I would be overestimating the impact of this stupid fic....


	18. XVIII

Murdoc buried his hands far in the pockets of his leather jacket; he was determined to wear that thing, even through the hot weather. He needed fresh air, hence why he was headed out of the city. He tried to stay near the marketplace side, where he had less chances to bump into anyone he knew.

 

He felt nauseous. All the food around him didn’t help his case. He impolitely shoved away with a simple hand gesture any seller in the stands who tried to communicate with him. He walked passed the town’s grocery store; it wasn’t really busy at this hour, on Saturdays. Everyone was out doing something nice with their free time. Except him, probably.

 

He was passing by the entrance, and there was Stuart, walking out of the store, a reusable bag in hand.

 

“Murdoc…”

 

The man hated how affectionate the words sounded in the boy’s mouth.

 

The younger walked up to him, a shy smile on his face. “I was buying cereal. For breakfast.” 

 

No response, although he didn’t give him much time for it. Stuart inspected the other quickly. “You don’t look too good.”

 

“Yeah, well. Let’s say I’ve got a lot of regrets about yesterday.” Murdoc admitted, his gaze elsewhere.

 

The boy looked down, slightly hurt at the remark. He let it go, however, his eyes going back to the older man. “You wanna walk with me ?”

 

Realizing he wasn’t getting a response, Stuart stayed on his idea. “C’mon.” He grabbed the other’s wrist as he started walking. 

 

They went on a street that followed the direction of the shore. There were barely any people on it, and on the right were a few shops within houses with mediterranean design. Murdoc could feel the fresh air of the sea on his face; it cured his hangover for a second.

 

“What do you regret… from last night ?” The boy asked, straightforward.

 

The older man was carrying his bag with the cereal for him. He looked ahead of him, slightly to the left to watch the waves.

 

“Er…” He took a second to think. “I regret… Getting drunk… I regret… Going to that shitty party… Or going anywhere with Roger, for that matter…”

 

“Do you regret  _ me _ ?” Stuart had his eyes on the other, willing. They could hear the waves crashing onto the rocks.

 

Murdoc still wasn’t ready to look back at the younger. However he knew his response like he had rehearsed it for hours.

 

Except it was nothing but spontaneous.

 

“No… Never.”

 

-

 

They ended up taking a break on a wooden bench next to the sidewalk, facing the beach from afar. Some people were starting to gather in the sand, bringing out their beach umbrellas and towels.

 

“Remember when you bought me ice cream because I had nothing to eat.” Stuart recalled casually.

 

Murdoc gave a slight smile. “Yeah. We were sitting exactly like this.”

 

“That’s why it was on my mind.” The boy smiled as well, seeing the other’s reaction.

 

A few seconds passed, and Stuart’s smile faded as he looked down. He looked back to the older man soon.

 

“Murdoc… You were my first.”

 

“What ?” The man responded, genuinely in shock. “You’re fucking with me.” He scoffed, looking ahead of him.

 

The boy frowned. “I’m not.”

 

Realizing he was being serious, Murdoc cleared his throat. They were silent for a while.

 

“He shoved it up my arse.” Stuart bluntly said.

 

The older man had no response in mind. But it was clear by the look on his face that he was disgusted, and very angry.

 

“Where’s that fucker anyway ?” Murdoc let out.

 

The boy looked ahead of him as well. “I have no idea… And... I don’t really care.”

 

Murdoc couldn’t stand it anymore; he turned to the other, seemingly offended. “He  _ raped _ you, Stuart.”

 

Stuart didn’t move, except for the shrug in his shoulders. “It’s no big deal.”

 

The older man was speechless, staring at the boy. He leaned forward on the bench, taking a deep breath. He shook his head in exasperation, looking back at the ocean again. “Who raised you, for Satan’s sake…”

 

The younger frowned, oblivious. “My mum, and my dad ?”

 

Murdoc chuckled. “I know, you idiot.”

 

“Call me that again and I start screaming « stop touching me ».” Stuart smirked.

 

The man gave a slight smile; it was the best anyone would be getting today. “Fuck you, Stuart Pot.”

 

The boy nodded once, smiling at the other. “Very well then.”

 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a minute or so, focusing on the blue waves and the blue sky.

 

“What’s  _ your _ last name anyway ?” Stuart asked out of the blue, turning to the other.

 

Murdoc didn’t move. “Niccals.”

 

The boy looked back in front of him. “It’s a shit name.” He let out.

 

“Got it from your grandma.” The older man smirked to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a more interesting chapter hopefully ! To make up for my lack of upload yesterday (again).
> 
> I’ve been hit with sickness these days, and even now I am dying inside as I am typing this. But outside I will still be alive to upload the remaining chapters... Do not worry. :)


	19. XIX

The older man was standing in the bathroom, buttoning his jeans after flushing the toilet. Not bothering to wash his hands, he pushed the door open. He saw Roger arrive from outside, stepping into the flat. He gave a bored expression to the other.

 

“Hey, mate.” Murdoc headed to the couch. The television was still on.

 

He didn’t have time to reach destination, because Roger was walking up to him in a rather worrying manner. Murdoc widened his eyes, backing up a few steps.

 

“ _Mate_ ? You’re not my fuckin’ mate.” His friend spitted. Literally spitted. Murdoc saw a drop of saliva escape the other’s mouth, at lightspeed. He had never seen him that drunk.

 

He put his hands up slightly. “Er... Look, how about we sit down, and have a talk...”

 

“I don’t wanna talk to you, _faceache_.” Roger was almost screaming at this point. He brought his beer bottle to his mouth.

 

Murdoc had backed up all the way to the wall next to the door, watching the scene. The nickname had brought horrible memories back in his mind. In a panicked impulse, he tried to reach for his phone; he had finally decided to carry the thing in his pocket. But his friend spotted him, and he was coming back closer to him.

 

The drunken man succeeded in taking the phone away from the other. He smashed it onto the carpeted floor, stepping on it aggressively with his boot until its screen cracked. He spotted the slightly depressed look on Murdoc’s face.

 

“Oh. What’s that ? Are you gonna cry ?” Roger was faking a pout, mocking his friend. “Cos you can’t text your boyfriend you love him, _faggot_ ?”

 

Murdoc cringed at the word. “Roger… I think we’re both having a rough night-”

 

“SHUT. UP.” The other cut him off. He threw his bottle to the wall. It crashed to pieces in a loud noise.

 

“I HATE people like you.” He heaved, catching his breath. “You’re FUCKED IN THE HEAD, you hear me ?”

 

Murdoc was still trying his hardest to calm the other down. His voice could barely be heard through the other’s yelling. “Mate, I think you need to sit down-”

 

“FUCKED IN THE HEAD.” Roger repeated, milliseconds before throwing a fist straight into Murdoc’s jaw, resulting in the older man stumbling, his hands grasping at the door behind him.

 

“GET OUT.” The drunken man yelled. He gave another punch, and Murdoc fell through the door, outside of the apartment. He was in shock, but couldn’t speak.

 

“You’re never coming back here.”

 

That was the last thing Roger said, before he walked away, slamming the broken door behind him. Murdoc sat there, catching his breath, thankful that he wasn’t shoved down the metal stairs. He wiped the blood under his nose with his jacket sleeve.

 

He stood up, not without a struggle. He started walking down the stairs, at a slow pace. He had to stop at some point to cough out chunks of blood.

 

It was past midnight a long time ago. The streets were almost empty. Murdoc walked for a minute, limping on his right leg. It had hit the metal fence when he fell through the door.

 

He settled on a spot next to a dumpster, in a dead-end alley. He took a piece of cardboard hanging from the container, slowly crouching to sit on it. He breathed heavily, leaning against the brick wall. He remembered doing the exact same thing, when he was only a teen. He shut his eyes closed, feeling the tears burning their way out. He swallowed harshly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some drama for y’all.
> 
> Sorry not sorry.
> 
> and Happy fourth of July !


	20. XX

Blue converse. He was walking on the pavement. He told his parents he was going to hang out with friends. It was never in his habit to lie to his parents… Although it kind of was now.

 

They wouldn’t understand if he told them the truth. Just like his mother didn’t understand when he came out to her. They were on good terms, always. But he knew that she didn’t take the news so well, that she never fully got over it.

 

He was going back on the same streets as his last party night. Except that now, he was alone. And he had to walk all of the distance without his bike. He felt powerless knowing his parents were completely clueless concerning his whereabouts.

 

He stopped in front of the house, taking a look at it. It seemed abandoned, and as he saw from the sign planted in the grass, it was for sale. Climbing the steps to the porch, he looked around. It was odd to see the place so empty.

 

He walked through the corridor up to the backyard door. Looking outside, there it was. The banana yellow bike, in all of its dirty glory. The basket at the front was a little damaged, but it was nothing he couldn’t fix.

 

He dragged the door to the left to open it, then he heard a noise. He looked towards the source of the disturbance, seeing Tom and his friend from afar. They saw the boy as well, as they were wandering in the house’s living room.

 

“Stu-Pot.” Tom walked up with the other, his hands in his pockets. “What are you doing here ?” He tried to sound friendly.

 

Stuart looked away for a second. “I came to get my bike. I, uh… Left it here, the other night.”

 

He could swear he heard Tom’s friend laugh.

 

“Oh. It’s not too fucked up I hope ?” Tom asked casually, fondness in his tone. 

 

“It seems alright.” The boy nodded. He was about to step outside…

 

“Why’d you leave the party anyway ?” Tom frowned. It sounded like he had thought about it before. Something like the day before.

 

Stuart, slightly caught off guard, tried his best to keep his cool. And to not seem suspicious for nothing. “... I was bored. It was a shit party.”

 

Tom shrugged. “You could have told us.”

 

“Yeah. You left us alone in this pisshole !” His friend chimed in, trying to be funny. There was clearly a problem for the both of them though.

 

The boy took a second, and a deep breath. He turned fully towards Tom and his friend. “Just like you left me alone back in april. Strange, huh ?”

 

Tom froze, but it wasn’t long before he went back to playing his game, giving a careless chuckle. “Wha- What are you talking about mate ?”

 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about…” Stuart trailed off, crossing his arms and stepping forward. “ _ Are you free to hang out tonight  _ ?  _ Come on, dude, semester’s almost over _ .” He recalled to the others, slightly frustrated. “Doesn’t ring a bell ?”

 

It was silent for a while.

 

“I mean… I don’t know about you, Rick…” Tom broke the silence. “But I  _ really _ couldn’t go. I had a last minute call, from the hospital. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before-”

 

“The hospital.” Stuart brushed off the apology, emotionless.

 

Tom nodded. “Yeah… My mom’s been sick for a bit.”

 

“Since... about when ?” The boy genuinely asked.

 

“... Since the end of march.” Tom’s response was almost too quick.

 

Stuart stood his ground, maintaining eye contact. “In mid april, you sprayed graffiti all over the walls of the hospital.”

 

“What ?!” Tom scoffed. “I-”

 

“And you yelled at me on the phone because I didn’t wanna come.” Stuart bitterly added.

 

Tom stopped laughing. He stepped on the boy’s foot. Stuart, distracted by the pain, didn’t see it coming when his friend kicked between his legs. He groaned in pain, stumbling backwards to the closest wall.

 

“You can keep  _ wishing _ you had balls.  _ Tranny _ .” Tom spitted, walking to the front door. Rick followed him like a blind sheep. 

 

Stuart watched them leave, catching his breath. He could feel the tears coming up from the harsh burning he was feeling. He didn’t care about the dirt on his converse.

 

Almost limping, he stepped outside, in the backyard. He put his bike up, fixing the basket as best as he could. He walked back with it inside the house, through the corridor. Once in the front yard, he threw a leg up, slowly lowering himself on the seat. It made him wince slightly, but he started moving his legs, his feet on the pedals. It took him a while to get back home.


	21. XXI

Sneaking into the apartment wasn’t difficult, but it wasn’t easy. Murdoc sat at the dumpster for hours until he saw Roger and the gang leave the place with their bikes. The door was still broken; they were all too broke to get it repaired, or even replaced. He crouched through the hole in the door’s net to get inside the flat.

 

He didn’t take much from his room. He only went to his old commode, grabbing his occult book out of the drawer. He packed some clothing and essentials along with it, in a backpack. He shoved his bags of drugs at the very bottom of it.

 

It was nighttime, late enough for Stuart to be asleep. And indeed, he was laying in his bed, but he wasn’t sleeping. His face was buried in a pillow, suffocating the loud sobs, absorbing the hot tears. Murdoc watched the scene when he climbed up the wall up to the bedroom window. He could barely see the boy under the fluffy covers, with only the lamppost providing any semblant of light.

 

The younger instinctively turned his head when he heard a knock on his window. He was relieved when he saw it was only Murdoc. Slowly, he stood up from his bed, walking towards the window. He dragged it up, hearing the crickets from outside.

 

“What are you doing here ?” Stuart spoke almost in a whisper, considering his parents sleeping downstairs.

 

The older man managed to step into the room, leaving his backpack on the floor.

 

“I needed a place to crash in.” He took a quick look at the place before he brought his gaze back on the boy. He noticed the other’s red face and puffy eyes.

 

“Looks like this isn’t the best night for any of us.”

 

-

 

The older man laid on his back in Stuart’s bed, the younger close to him, on his side.

 

“He punched me, twice. And then… he kicked me out.” Murdoc told the story of his past twenty four hours.

 

The boy was casually braiding a small portion of the older’s hair while listening to the story. He frowned at the mention of violence. “Why ?”

 

Murdoc took in a deep breath. “Well… He doesn’t  _ appreciate _ people like me.” He took a breath. “And when he saw us, on my bike-”

 

“So he’s an asshole.” At this moment, Stuart had turned his gaze to him, abandoning his task.

 

His smile made Murdoc feel better. The man laughed, still keeping his voice low. “Exactly.”

 

They were silent for a second. The boy had gone back to his task.

 

The older man was eyeing him since he had first arrived in the bedroom. “What’s up with you ?” He dared to ask.

 

Stuart finished the braid with one of his hair ties. He wasn’t looking at the other. “... I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 

And Murdoc let him. He slid a hand to the boy’s leg, under the covers.

 

The younger still had his gaze elsewhere, almost lost in thought. “It’s not… something I like to see… as a part of what I am. At least not what I  _ really _ am.” 

 

Murdoc caught on with the cryptic talking. “Oh… It’s the bloody week.” A smile inched its way in the corner of his mouth.

 

The boy looked back at him in surprise, his brows furrowed. He had a hint of a smile too. “ _ The bloody week _ ?”

 

The older man chuckled. “Yeah. I mean… « That time of the month » would be a little too cliché, a little too… precise.”

 

“Yeah, but  _ the bloody week _ ?” Stuart smiled, almost mocking.

 

“I know. Not my best work.” Murdoc admitted. “It almost sounds like… a serial killer’s prime time.”

 

The boy exploded in laughter, leaning forward, in the crook of the man’s neck. He tried his best not to be too loud.

 

“A… needle drug addiction gone wrong.” The older kept going. “Or… The disturbing version of Valentine’s.”

 

Stuart’s laugh died slowly. He lowered his gaze, playing with Murdoc’s chain distractingly. “I never asked for this, you know.”

 

The older man listened closely. His arm naturally slid to the younger’s back, rubbing ever so slightly.

 

“I never wanted any of it.” The boy swallowed dryly. He couldn’t even cry.

 

Murdoc sighed, through his nostrils. “Yeah, well. We don’t really get what we deserve in this world.”

 

“I know, but… I wish it didn’t define me.” Stuart expressed, without emotion.

 

“It doesn’t have to.” The older man slowly responded. The words were coming to him right in the moment. “What defines you is what you do… with what you’re given.”

 

The boy chuckled. “When did you get so smart ?”

 

Murdoc laughed slightly with him. “Well… Guess I hang out with you a little too much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaah I remember I wrote this at like 3 AM half asleep in my fucking bed... Hence why it’s a little... Ah fuck it. It’s cheesy and stupid that’s what it is.
> 
> This story is soon coming to an end...


	22. XXII

Murdoc woke up strangely relaxed. There was just enough light in the room for it not to be aggressive. It painted the walls in an orange yellow hue. The room felt warm, cheerful. He quickly realized it was Stuart’s.

 

He recognized the christmas lights hung up, now turned off. However he didn’t recognize the serenity he was feeling. He quickly realized he was sober.

 

Turning around, he saw the disheveled mop of blue hair peeking from the covers. He hesitated to move. He decided on bringing his hand into the boy’s hair, massaging slowly. Soon he noticed slight movement.

 

“Hey, dullard. Wake up…” The man spoke lowly.

 

He listened to the other’s sleepy sounds. Stuart seemed to be stretching lazily.

 

“Hm… Give me a sec’...” The younger mumbled, his forearm covering his eyes.

 

Murdoc caught himself smiling. He slid his hand from the hair down to a pale, frail shoulder, rubbing softly. “Stuart… It’s been more than a second.” 

 

The boy snuggled closer to the older man, his back against the side of Murdoc’s chest. “Then give me a minute…”

 

The man closed his eyes. There was something… extremely close to therapeutic in the warmth of Stuart’s body. When he opened his eyes again, the boy was looking at him, a sincere smile on his face. Then there was a knock on the door.

 

The younger was quickly out of the bed; it almost made Murdoc laugh as he hid under the covers.

 

Stuart opened the door. “Hey, dad…” He breathed.

 

David was standing behind the doorway, hands in pockets, giving his son a smile. “Hey Stu… Hope I didn’t wake you up in there…”

 

“No, no, it’s alright.” The boy reassured.

 

“I thought I should tell you, your mom and I are leaving for the day.” David explained.

 

Stuart nodded slowly, his gaze dropping. “You’re going outta town again…”

 

“Yes.” His father responded. “She wanted to know if you were coming.” 

 

The boy was almost caught off guard. “Oh, um… Actually…”

 

He looked behind him quickly. “I was thinking maybe I could... stay…”

 

David listened closely, surprised by the response.

 

“I mean, I’ve got a lot of homework, and finals are next week…” Stuart explained, his gaze low.

 

His father smiled. “I understand. I’m sure Susan’s gonna shed some tears. But I understand.”

 

The boy chuckled. “Thanks. And um… have fun.”

 

David made a wave, before going back on his steps. Stuart closed the door. When he turned around, Murdoc was already out of the covers.

 

“What was that for ?” The older man asked.

 

“My parents are leaving for the day.” The boy brought a pair of socks from under his bed, almost tripping as he put them on. “We used to go out of town to visit my grandparents every month.”

 

“Did I just cause family drama ?” Murdoc spoke, almost jokingly.

 

Stuart looked back at him fondly. “No…”

 

The older man gave back half a smile. The silence in the room didn’t bother any of them.

 

The boy brought his shirt up, through his head. Then he let his shorts slide down his legs, all the way to his ankles. He stepped out of them, slipping on an oversized tee as he made his way out of the bedroom.

 

“I’ll be right back…” He sang joyfully as he turned in the hallway.

 

Almost stunned, Murdoc moved towards his backpack, rummaging to find a specific thing. “Wait !” He yelled.

 

_ [ music: The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore by The Walker Brothers ] _

_ { montage } _

 

The older man stumbled into the bathroom. Stuart turned to him for a second, as he was brushing his teeth. The other showed him his toothbrush, almost too proudly.

 

Murdoc stared at a small pink container in his hands, frowning. He turned it around, pressing on the material only to have the remaining of its content splatter on his face. The boy didn’t notice it, busy rubbing a cleanser on his cheeks.

 

The man took the toothpaste out of Stuart’s hands, rushingly starting to brush his teeth. He mimicked the boy’s actions, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

 

The younger laughed at the mess on Murdoc’s face. The older man growled, too close to losing his patience.

 

Still brushing his teeth, the man looked at the other from the corner of his eyes. Attempting to be subtle, he spit out a small amount of saliva and toothpaste. Stuart flinched when it landed on his cheek.

 

The younger spread the cleanser on Murdoc’s face, making use of the accident. The older man stumbled back to a wall, annoyed at the affection. 

 

Stuart took advantage of it, smiling as he patted the other’s cheeks. Murdoc lazily shoved him away before he went to rinse off his face.

 

They both exited the bathroom, the boy behind the older man.

 

_ [ music fades ] _

 

“Come on Murdoc, don’t be so grumpy !” Stuart said, exasperated. He feigned to pout even though the other wasn’t looking at him.

 

“I won’t be when I get something to drink.” The man groaned, heading for the stairs.

 

The boy stopped in front of the entrance to his bedroom, watching Murdoc disappear to the lower floor.

 

When he walked into the room, he noticed the backpack, left next to the window.

 

Meanwhile, the older man was rushing in the kitchen, searching in the refrigerator, the cabinets, the drawers.

 

“Is there even any alcohol in here ?” He yelled.

 

Stuart was sitting on the floor, looking through the content of the backpack. There was nothing out of the ordinary: clothes, the occult book, lube, toothbrush, drugs,... Then something familiar met the boy’s eyes.

 

There it was. The bottle of lavender lotion, half emptied, sitting in the back pocket of the bag. The boy smiled.


	23. XXIII

The day went by quickly. Stuart joined Murdoc on the couch to watch television. They argued about whether they should watch a horror movie or a sports game. The sports ended up winning, in the older man’s favor.

 

Murdoc did his best to help the boy out with his homework, without much success. Stuart thanked him anyway, offering to help him cook a meal for lunch. That wasn’t a success either.

 

They ended up going on a ride on Murdoc’s motorbike, around in the neighborhood. They stopped by a convenience store for some egg and chicken sandwiches. And a couple of beers, maybe.

 

The sun was close to setting on their way back home. Stuart was looking around, his hands naturally on the older man’s shoulders. He let go, putting his hands up, feeling the wind. Closing his eyes, he didn’t see it coming when they hit a bump in the road. Since he wasn’t holding onto anything, he tumbled to the ground.

 

-

 

Stuart sat in the kitchen, rubbing a wet towel on his scraped knee. Murdoc walked up to him; pressing a thumb under the boy’s chin, he wiped the blood from a small scar near the other’s mouth.

 

The beers weren’t enough to get him drunk. And now there he was, hesitant about every move, having feelings like guilt.

 

_ I didn’t mean to make him fall. _

 

_ The road was shit. I didn’t see it coming. _

 

Done with his task, the man walked away, leaving the boy alone in the kitchen. He paced in the living room, where he couldn’t be seen. Stuart joined him a couple of minutes later.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out of his mouth, just from seeing the boy’s state. 

 

The younger frowned. “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

He walked up to the older man, limping only slightly. They stood by the back of the couch, using it as a backrest.

 

“Does it hurt ?” Murdoc asked, stupidly.

 

“Not so much.” Stuart answered carelessly, observing the other closely. “You good ?”

 

The man groaned, ruffling his nose. He hated those kinds of questions. No, he didn’t hate them. He wasn’t  _ used _ to them.

 

He lowered his gaze, attempting to shrug it off. “Usually I got more than three beers and an energy drink in my system.”

 

“Isn’t life better when you’re sober ?” Stuart smiled slightly. “You get to… feel things. And be conscious about it.”

 

The language was a little dumb, but it got the message accross. “Yeah, well.” Murdoc scoffed. “That’s exactly the problem.”

 

The boy had his eyes on him like he was the only thing left on Earth. He was realizing how little he knew about the man in front of him. The man that took such good care of him in so little time.

 

He brought his arm from behind his back, showing Murdoc a bottle of beer. “Maybe a fourth one can help ?”

 

The older man stared at the bottle. He breathed in deeply. “I don’t think so.”

 

He walked passed a dumbfounded Stuart, heading upstairs. The younger tried to follow him, only to have a burning sensation in his knee stop him on his way. He hissed a curse word or two.

 

Without turning around, Murdoc kept walking. “I think you need a shower.”

 

The boy was almost offended. “What ?”

 

“Just come, alright.” The man ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are looking for a more in-character story, I have just read my first published work “The Inevitable” and I think it’s not so bad. :)


	24. XXIV

“I’m gonna take your leg now.” Murdoc gave notice. He had joined Stuart in the bathtub, sitting on the opposite side. With the help of a towel and some soap, he gently rubbed on the large scar on the boy’s knee, mostly to avoid getting it infected. It was still bleeding and he was trying hard not to panic. Blame the lack of alcohol.

 

The younger was simply looking at him, almost embarrassed. However, with those feelings, he still let the other do his thing. He admired how focused the man seemed to be.

 

“Here. It’s as good as new.” Murdoc said when he finished his task. He looked up and caught Stuart staring.

 

The boy seemed flustered. “You didn’t have to…”

 

The man scoffed. “Well. I did it.” He saw the other was still not moving. “So say it.”

 

“Say what ?” Stuart genuinely asked, oblivious.

 

Murdoc leaned closer. “Say  _ thank you _ , love.” Blue eyes went to his lips for a millisecond.

 

“Thank you, Murdoc.” The boy almost whispered. He gave the man a soft smile.

 

Then, the older man slowly pushed down the leg that Stuart still had against his chest, and he leaned even closer. He grabbed the small towel from the water, rubbing slowly on the scar the boy had on his cheek.

 

The younger was staring at him again. He could feel his heart beating louder against his ribcage.

 

Weeks ago, someone took away his innocence. Then Murdoc came around. Twenty four hours ago, he was hurt and betrayed by his best mate. Then Murdoc came around. 

 

“I owe you my soul.” Stuart let out in a breath, overwhelmed by emotions.

 

The older man’s eyes fluttered up to him. Their lips met in a heartbeat. The boy’s hands went to Murdoc’s cheeks, cupping his face, possessive. They both proceeded slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

 

Murdoc grabbed the other’s hips in a strong grip. As he started to move, the boy’s knee grazed at the side of the bathtub. Stuart pulled away instinctively. “Ow…”

 

“Careful.” The older man teased, his gaze lustful.

 

Soon they were out of the bathtub. Stuart finished drying his hair, turning towards Murdoc. He eyed his body quickly before looking away, in search for a band-aid. “Murdoc… I need to make it up to you.”

 

“You already did by welcoming me here.” The man responded casually.

 

Stuart smiled. He grabbed a random bottle of lotion from the counter.

 

Before he could do anything, Murdoc stopped him. “No, use this.” He urged, handing the lavender lotion to the other.

 

The boy smiled even wider, laughing loud. “I love you !” The words escaped out of his mouth.

 

The older man didn’t respond. He took Stuart in his arms, holding his thighs. He brought him all the way back to the bedroom, where he laid him down, and kissed him lovingly.

 

“I didn’t even get to use the lotion, dumb arse…” The boy mocked, however with a rather calm voice tone. They kissed again. The bedsheets felt a lot softer after a good shower.

 

“Can I give you another bruise ?” Murdoc groaned, not even waiting for a response to act. Stuart gave a whine, surprised by the sudden pain, once again, this time in his neck.

 

The older man laid down next to the boy, turning him around on his left side. He pressed the small, pale back against him, resting a hand on his hip. He pushed the blue hairs to the side, pressing his lips to the other’s neck.

 

Stuart could turn around to look back at Murdoc, but he didn’t. He let the man pull the covers on their bodies, keeping the warmth in. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

 

Taking a chance, the older man brought his hand under the pillow. He was surprised to find what he was looking for. “Who’d you use that with ?”

 

Stuart looked behind him this time. He blushed. “... Nobody… It’s for precaution.”

 

“Hm.” Murdoc bitterly responded, turning the boy’s head with a hand. He ripped the packaging open with his teeth.

 

Stuart felt the nerves kicking in. The older man noticed it. “I’m gonna need you to relax.” He ordered calmly.

 

“I’m trying…” The boy’s response wasn’t convincing.

 

Murdoc buried his fingers in Stuart’s hair, giving a light massage. He remembered doing the same earlier in the morning. The day had gone by so fast with someone like Stuart around. He did his best to calm him down, until the breaths he was hearing gradually slowed down.

 

He used his free hand to cautiously press himself inside the younger. “Yeah… That’s it.” He breathed. “Now you’re making it up to me.”

 

Stuart breathed heavily, the pressure invading his entire being. He felt the other start a leisurely pace.

 

“Murdoc…” He whined.

 

“Keep going. I love it when you sing.” The older man groaned. He pushed the boy’s thigh forward for more access.

 

Stuart let out a moan, searching desperately for something to hold. He fumbled for Murdoc’s hand, and when he found it, he squeezed it hard. He enlaced his thin fingers between larger ones.

 

The man remained gentle, and patient, the entire time. He never quickened the pace; they made love for the first time, and sober.  _ Almost _ sober.

 

The boy, coming down from his high, turned around to wrap his arms around the older man, holding tightly. They kissed lazily, before Stuart went to rest his head on Murdoc’s chest. They were silent for the rest of the night.


	25. XXV

Blue eyes fluttered open, observing the surroundings. Reassured that he was in his own bedroom, he turned on his back, stretching his arms with a sleepy groan. 

 

He was rubbing his eye when he saw Murdoc walk in, already dressed, finishing a beer. They locked eyes for a second.

 

“Murdoc…”

 

There was almost hurt in Stuart’s words, and the older man could hear it. It brought the good old guilt back; he could practically feel his stomach churn to the feeling. He knew the boy probably felt abandoned waking up like this. Alone in bed, after their first time (almost) sober. He forced himself to brush it off.

 

However, the younger kept talking. “What’s got you in a rush ?”

 

The man walked towards his backpack. He threw it on his shoulder as he turned to the other. “I gotta leave, Stu.”

 

He could already see the disbelief in the boy’s face. He hurried to explain himself. “Your parents could see me.”

 

“And ?” Stuart blurted out. He had already sat up in his bed.

 

Murdoc adored the way his hair defied gravity in the morning. He slightly shook his head to focus. “ _ And _ I don’t think any parent would appreciate catching an old man in their kid’s room.”

 

“I’m not a kid anymore.” The boy frowned.

 

“Yeah, thanks to me.” Murdoc scoffed. He noticed the way it made Stuart blush, only for a second before the other came back to his senses. He took a few steps away from the window, and towards the door, not leaving for now.

 

The older man took a breath. “Have you ever told them about me ?”

 

“Well.” Stuart seemed thoughtful before responding. “Only once, when I thought you were a sex trafficker.”

 

Murdoc sighed, bringing his palm to his forehead. “That’s even worse.”

 

“Murdoc.” Stuart called, this time with a little more affection behind.

 

He stood from his bed, walking towards the other. Strangely enough, Murdoc was bare chested under his jacket, and Stuart was wearing the man’s shirt.

 

The younger looked up at him in the eyes, before stepping even closer. He pressed his forehead on the man’s chest, along with his hand.

 

“Stay...” He breathed.

 

Murdoc swallowed harshly. He had never wanted to make things more complicated. They weren’t supposed to live together all the time anyway.

 

_ Right ? _

 

“Stay.” The boy repeated, taking a breath. “I don’t care if my parents see you… I’ll find a way to make them understand...”

 

It was rare for the older man to have people not be ashamed of him. It only brought more guilt to know he had to push Stuart away.

 

He closed his eyes as he breathed, only opening them when he felt the boy’s gaze on him. He felt his own heart skip a beat.

 

“Stu…” He called, reminiscent of their time in Murdoc’s bedroom.

 

Stuart’s eyes glistened with tears. His palm went on the man’s arm, simple gesture of affection he wasn’t fully aware of.

 

“You…” The boy sniffed. “You don’t have anywhere to go…”

 

Murdoc went to rest a hand on the other’s arm as well.

 

“I will. Soon.” He tried to be reassuring. However, in his head, he was completely lost.

 

Stuart blinked, and the tears began to flow. The older man pressed his lips on the other’s, breathing in through his nose. He felt the boy’s hand pressing slightly harder on his arm. And his lips parted, desperate for contact, for anything to hold on to.

 

Halfheartedly, Murdoc pulled away. They stared at each other for a second.

 

“I’ll be back.” The man spoke almost in a whisper. He secured his bag on his shoulder, walking to the window. 

 

The boy closed his eyes when the man walked away, hot tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t turn to look; he only heard the window open, and close.

 

Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned y’all about the angst.


	26. XXVI

Days slowly turned into weeks.

 

Once Stuart’s parents were back, they didn’t speak much, aside from the minimal family talk during meals. The boy spent the week biking back and forth to school for final exams. He was announced bad news the next weekend.

 

They were at the dining table when the boy came down the stairs to get lunch. Guess he had to save that for later.

 

“Wh- What’s going on...” The younger asked as he sat down with his parents. They seemed to be talking pretty seriously before he arrived.

 

Rachel seemed hesitant when she looked at him, like she was choking on words. David noticed it and decided to deliver the news.

 

He took a deep breath. “Stu, your grandmother… She is really sick.”

 

Stuart frowned, confused. “What do you mean ?”

 

“Uh…” Even his father didn’t seem so comfortable. It wasn’t in his habit. “She’s at the hospital. She could give out… anytime.”

 

“And we wanted to see her this week, but I had an emergency at work.” Rachel spoke on the verge of tears. “She could be gone right now, and… I never said goodbye…”

 

“Rachel.” David called. That and the back rub seemed to be enough to calm her down for a minute.

 

-

 

Stuart went out of town with his parents this time, to check up on his grandmother. They saw her for a day before she passed away, ill in a hospital bed. The boy was remembered of many happy childhood memories with her that made him sob in his pillow at night.

 

They stayed at a hotel so that they could attend the funeral three weeks later. Stuart was often left alone in the hotel room, while his parents were running around town preparing the ceremony with other family members. It was his own decision to stay inside; he couldn’t bare to be amongst those adults, to pretend to be one of them when he was falling apart.

 

He started drawing a lot, quickly scribbling on paper what was going through his mind. He would sit on the carpeted floor, near the large window. He would draw for hours. When one specific scribbled page reminded him of Murdoc, he ripped it from the notebook, throwing it away. And he wept again.

 

Weeks rapidly turned into months.

 

Murdoc hid in the streets for a while until he managed to find himself a job. It wasn’t the best of jobs, nor the most paying, but he didn’t have a care in the world about it. He accumulated enough money to rent a small apartment near the shore, finally living somewhere by himself. The streets didn’t count.

 

He was lonely, that he couldn’t deny. He thought about Stuart every once in a while, usually having to brush it off when he got busy. He kept telling himself that he was productive, and that it was enough. In reality, it wasn’t.

 

It soon came around to be Stuart’s birthday. Murdoc knew the date since he had checked the boy’s calendar, back when he spent a day at his house. From that one memory he remembered so much more and, for an entire night, he spent a large amount of his money on alcohol and cigarettes.

 

He _did_ think about sending the kid a text, or giving a quick call. Every time he tried, his cowardice got the best of him. And so the day went by, and he never wished him a happy birthday.

 

It ate him alive. But somewhere inside of him, something told him he was probably far from a necessity. Stuart was surely doing fine without him, going on about his life.

 

_He’s probably hanging around on his stupid bike, sticking his stupid teeth in a fucking tangerine or some shit. Showing off his stupid arse in tiny fuckin’ shorts. I mean, might as well get out’ the house naked at this point._

 

The man groaned to himself as he sat at the coffee table by the large window in his apartment. He chewed on his nail distractingly, watching the cars go by on the street below him. He knew he didn’t mean anything he was thinking. It was all just make-believe.

 

_As it’s always been._

 

He downed another beer. Blinking quickly, he focused on the waves. On the bright color of the water. Beautiful, bright blue.

 

_Beautiful._


	27. XXVII

Stuart had missed his graduation ceremony. He didn’t really care. He wouldn’t have gotten himself to go, even if he had been at home. The word, right out of Tom’s mouth, came back into his head every time he looked in the mirror. Even when he pushed it away, it would remain somewhere, deep in his heart.

 

His own personal way of celebrating was to go to a club on the seaside. It had the atmosphere of a bar, but the flooring could hold a bigger crowd. It could have some sort of a prom vibe, if you tried hard enough.

 

The place was filled by randoms who hadn’t a clue that he was graduating. They were dancing for whatever reason, probably none. He brought his cup to his mouth as he swayed in the crowd of people. The alcohol was starting to rub off on him. And there he was feeling like his life was pretty again.

 

Murdoc walked into the place, desperate for a drink. He leaned against the counter, ordering his favorite. He didn’t know why he chose to go to a club tonight. He assumed he was in need of some change, any change.

 

But was change really the only way to go ?

 

The man quickly thanked the worker as he took the drink in his hands, watching the crowd from afar. They were all so bland, like they were all here for the same reason.

 

To forget.

 

It was probably the same for him. But if he were honest, it really wasn’t.

 

_ [ music: I Love to Love / Tina Charles ] _

 

He watched in a daze the only young soul in the crowd. His blue hair waved all over the place, his red cup spilling alcohol all over the floor. His dancing was horrible, but if Murdoc was honest, he didn’t give a single fuck.

 

Change isn’t the only remedy to a bad life. Missing the past can sometimes mean something that shouldn’t be left behind was left behind. It can mean that you made the wrong choice. Those are things that happen. What isn’t doesn’t have to remain a memory. What is isn’t necessarily supposed to be. 

 

It is a life spent imperfect.

 

Murdoc left his drink on the counter. He made the stupidest dance moves. Stuart saw him. It was like they met yesterday.

 

He watched as the boy twirled around. When he went up to him, the man let him in. Their lips met like they knew each other forever.

 

Cue the credits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I wrote this two months ago, and that now it is fully published on a public website.
> 
> Anyway, it’s been fun. Hopefully more ideas will come to me soon, I love love love writing, but as of now I am stuck in writer’s block. See y’all whenever !

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter 1 out of 27. I will be updating everyday since this was finished a few days ago. Took me a month and, not gonna lie, I’m kinda nostalgic.
> 
> Those two characters have been on my mind a lot for a long time now, so I almost ended up creating my own versions based on what they were. 
> 
> It’s to be noted that in this story the band does not exist, hence why it will never be mentioned.
> 
> Thank you for reading x


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